


This Quiet Company

by peacefulboo



Series: Terrible Love Suite [2]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Domesticity, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-17
Updated: 2014-03-17
Packaged: 2018-01-16 01:38:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1326961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peacefulboo/pseuds/peacefulboo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes all you want is to take care of someone and have them take care of you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Quiet Company

**Author's Note:**

> I like quiet moments. And I like imagining these two in quiet moments. And I'm really coming around to them together (with and without Felicity). Feedback is loved and appreciated.

It takes Oliver two weeks to convince Sara that it's completely okay for her to stay with him at the Queen townhouse. While the Clock Tower is strategically placed in the glades, living there is cold and dusty and guarantees that she's always on the clock. Which was fine when she in hiding. It's not so great when you actually need to occasionally get sleep. 

Now that she's had her back from the dead party and Laurel seems to be on the mend and no longer concerned about what Sara does with Oliver Sara's life has settled and calmed. 

Sara knows that eventually Nyssa, or the League, or both will be back. She also knows that Nyssa was sincere in releasing her and Sara's confident that she has enough power to keep the League at bay for at least a few years. She'll take it. 

She drops her bag on the floor next to her bed and starts stripping out of the clothes she had worn on shift (now splashed with vodka and beer and there might have been an incident with the grenadine. It's just a good thing that Thea insists on her bartenders wearing all black). Sara enjoys a long hot shower – yet another perk of not living in the Tower – hoping the headache that's been building since an hour into shift will go away. It more or less works and after twenty minutes of indulgence, she's drying off, putting her hair into a singing braid, then falling face forward onto her bed. 

That's another thing. They have separate bedrooms. There was no real discussion about it when she moved in. Oliver had her things put in the room next to his and if she was taken aback with how insanely relieved she is about this arrangement, at least she knows he's feeling the same thing. 

Which isn't to say they don't venture into each other's territories a lot. 

“You didn't even manage to get your whole body on the bed this time.” He's not wrong. Her left arm and part of her left leg are hanging off the edge of the bed. 

“People make me tired.”

Oliver nods in agreement. It's not a new sentiment but it's one they share. And it's one they both feel free to bitch about out loud. They regularly go without sleep, and they often push their bodies to the limits when going after one badie or another. But it's their mundane, normal jobs that tend to get to them, deep in their bones. 

Sara feels his weight shift the bed on her right side and huffs when he drags her toward the center so her whole body is supported. She's already letting out a contented sigh as he straddles her hips and moves her braid off her back. 

She moans out as Oliver's hands kneed into the knots in her shoulders. He has amazing hands and while there are many things she enjoys about this post Island Oliver, how giving he can be now is certainly a plus. He's strong and unrelenting but backs off at exactly the right moment. Once he's worked his magic on her entire body and she's nearly asleep, he settles her so her head is resting on his thighs and goes to town on her head, probably making a gigantic mess of the braid. She doesn't care since it feels amazing. 

“How was your day?” she mumbles at some point toward the end of the scalp massage. He has her flip over onto her back before answering. 

“Okay. It's been quiet lately so we've been able to catch up a little. I was even able to let Felicity go home a little early today.”

“Good. She's getting a little frayed around the edges.”

His hands pause momentarily and she's pretty sure he's evaluating what she means by that. Whatever conclusion he's come to, he hands start moving again, now working their magic down the plains of her face. 

In truth all she means is that Felicity's as overworked as the rest of them. But she's never had the kind of trial by fire that the rest of them have had. Not in the same way at least. Felicity's never needed the physical endurance that they've all built by running for their lives or fighting wars or training to kill people. So the exhaustion shows up a little bit more clearly as it settles on her frame. 

And Sara's felt protective of her new friend since the minute she met her. She tried to keep from making Felicity the talisman of peace and innocence that the boys have made her, but it's really hard. She's fresh and clean and frankly adorable and Sara knows that she's been through things. She knows that she's been tainted by the world just like the rest of them. The woman's 25 years old. And doesn't seem to have much of a family. And Sara's far from oblivious. But she can't help but see Felicity as purer than the rest of them. And she wants to protect that, too. 

Sometimes that overprotective impulse simply looks like Sara being happy that Felicity gets to sleep a little more than usual some days. 

Sara is drawn out of her musings as Oliver rests his thumbs along the crest of her brow, finding the pressure points there. That's all the warning she has before his thumbs dig in. Sara lets out a small squeal before clenching her teeth. Fuck that hurts. He presses down long enough for the pressure to release some of the tension that's had her skull pounding for the last few hours. 

She hadn't even realized that she still had that head ache. 

“Fuck, Oliver. Give a girl some warning.” She feels, more than hears, the chuckle rumble through his body. 

“You've got about twenty seconds before I go for the ones on your cheek bones.” He's still soothing her brows, rubbing them gently with the pads of his thumbs. 

She tenses for a second when he rests his thumbs on her cheek bones and presses in deep. She suppress the grunt this time and breathes through the pain. 

The first time he'd done this to her after they'd been trapped on the island, it had been under Shado's tutelage. She'd had a ridiculous sinus headache compounded by a tension headache that it felt like she'd had for the entire year she'd been on the ship. The pressure had been the first thing to help. It never completely cut the pain, but used in conjunction with some herbs and other relaxation techniques, she was able to get relief. 

Still, that first time she screamed and wriggled herself free. And then hit him the shoulder a couple of times before she realized that she felt relief. 

When he was done, he dropped a kiss on her her lips, mumbled good night and made his way back to his own room. She is willing to admit to herself that she wouldn't mind if he stayed tonight. Before the thought really has time to form she's fallen asleep. 

***

Oliver enjoys taking care of Sara. It's easy. He usually knows what she wants and needs. She accepts his help with way more ease than he expects and that encourages him to do it more. 

He's also wary of her. He sometimes still gets confused by her intense mixture of light and darkness. He's drawn to both sides. The lightness in her, the part that managed to retain her playfulness and easy joy, brings out the same in him. 

At the same time she has deep, dark corners of herself that he'll never even begin to touch. And she has wounds that he couldn't begin to heal. That he wasn't even willing to try. And that's okay, too, because he's got those, too. 

And he'd be lying if he didn't admit that her sleeping in the same house as him, whether sprawled out and sleeping boneless in her own bed, or in his bed, tucked tightly against him, didn't give him a tentative sense of peace. 

Oliver enjoys taking care of Sara. 

And Oliver loves her. It's different than the other loves he's felt in his life. It's layered with a distorted, tortured, and frankly, occasionally stupid, history. But he loves her deeply. 

If there are other loves in his life, and they all know there are, it takes nothing away from this love. And it's a forever love. It just might not be a together forever love. 

But that doesn't matter. Neither of them have bets that they'll live to forever anyway. 

Oliver showers quickly after leaving Sara. And after tossing and turning for an hour, he acknowledges that tonight is one of the ones where he doesn't want his space. 

He only feels a little guilty when he calls her name from the door (she's an assassin in a dead sleep. And he's not stupid.) 

“What do you need? Did something happen with Slade?” She's sitting straight up in bed now, her legs already swinging over the side of the bed, and he knows she's ready to suit up if need be. Now he feels a little more guilty as he steps into the room. 

“No, no. Nothing's wrong. I just..” he trails off then, feeling a little off balance. 

“Oh.” She catches on quickly and lays back down, pulling the covers away from the less disturbed side of the bed. 

Once he's in the bed, Sara curls herself toward him and rests her head against his chest, letting out a sigh. 

It still takes Oliver a while to get to sleep but Sara's out again in moments. 

Still, he appreciates the company.


End file.
